


Drinks and Dessert

by brooksey



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Blow Jobs, F/M, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rimming, Rough Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-17
Updated: 2014-09-17
Packaged: 2018-02-17 17:53:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2318147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brooksey/pseuds/brooksey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes, even the famous Commander Shepard needs some release.  After a night of drinking, she's looking to top it off with a bit of delicious dessert.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, most of this is pretty much just absolute unrepentant filth. So... enjoy!

Kaidan is just about to give up waiting and go to sleep when Shepard finally waltzes through the cabin door and gives him a mild shock. From the sway of her body, and the way her gaze settles on him with devious intent, it is immediately obvious to him that she's quite drunk. She's no teetotaler, but it's rare that she lets things go this far.

Vaguely, he thinks to himself that he shouldn't be surprised. It is, after all, the anniversary; that's why they're here. Every year to the day since the fall of Thessia, Shepard knocks a few back, trying to forget. This year, though, they're actually _on_ Thessia for the occasion — the Alliance has sent them to attend the ceremonies and memorials being held to mark five years since that day, the day of Shepard's greatest failure.

On any other day of the year, she can focus on the victories, remember the good she's done and the lives she's saved. On this day, she never can manage to forget the destruction, the millions dead; not _really_. The drinks merely distract her. He supposes that he should worry, at least a little. But everyone needs their release once in a while, even _the_ Commander Shepard. Especially her. And he's no stranger to finding escape at the bottom of a bottle, so he isn't one to talk.

He wishes, not for the first time, that he had been able to join her at the reception that night for the assembled dignitaries. He'd had an inkling something like this might happen, although not to this degree. But he was sent in the other direction to meet with some of the few remaining refugees. It's not that he regrets having done that, nor does he enjoy stuffy political functions. It's just that Shepard usually anchors herself to him when she starts to drown herself in drink. It usually means she doesn't go quite this deep.

Still, things are what they are, and here she is. Unconsciously, he's toying with his wedding band, considering whether to address the subject of her intoxication directly or just let it go.

"Hey, you're back," he says, a little too casually. Best to play it safe, at least for a few minutes.

While he's been hemming and hawing, she's been stripping off her dress blues; her formal jacket is already thrown over the back of her desk chair. She pulls the crisp white shirt up over her head and tosses it aside carelessly. Very unlike her. She turns to him and her lazy smile widens a little.

"Yes, sir. Yes, I am."

Kaidan makes a mental note to hang the shirt up after she's fallen asleep. "Uh huh. And how was the reception?"

"Boring as hell," she complains, "but Liara was there, so thank goodness for that. Or thank Goddess, I guess. It's Liara." She kicks off her shoes and removes her socks by stepping on them and pulling her feet out one at a time. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he's impressed she managed to execute the move in this state. She hadn't lost her balance even a little bit.

"Well, I'm glad you two had fun."

"Close enough, anyway," she agrees. Her face pulls into an exaggerated pout. "But there was something I missed while we were at the bar drinking."

Something's crept into her voice now, something that tells Kaidan's mind — and his groin — that he's very glad he didn't decide to go to sleep. "Okay, I'll bite," he teases her, and he sees the corners of her mouth quirk up at that. "What was it?"

She moves languidly in his direction, clad in her black satin bra and dress slacks. He watches her approach, already turned on just by the sight of her. She stops to strike a pose at the foot of the bed, and her eyes rake over him lounging there, bare chested, wearing only his briefs.

"Dessert," she purrs. He finally notices that, next to the glint of gold on her own hand, there's something dangling between two of her fingers — a bottle of chocolate sauce. _Well, then._

"Is that what I think it is?" he asks, gesturing to her left.

"Yep. Found it in the mess downstairs. Remember?"

Oh, he remembers. He'd scoured every shop on the Citadel when they'd been there a couple months ago. While Shepard had spent the day meeting with the Council and who knows who else, Kaidan had had the day off, and he'd spent it gathering what he needed to turn her into a human ice cream sundae. Which he'd promptly done when she got back. Afterward, they'd polished off the ice cream — mint chip, her favorite, and Christ, it had been damn near impossible to find — but the chocolate sauce had been tucked away with everything else, and then forgotten.

"Ah, yeah," he chuckles, "I remember."

She's slowly coming around to his side of the bed, and his heart rate starts to pick up more and more the closer she gets. When she lowers herself to sit next to him and starts plucking at his waistband, a tingling takes over in his gut. Her voice comes out in that drawl she only uses when she's had a few. It's unbearably sexy.

"Well, I was thinking I could return the favor."

She leans forward and drops her head to his hips, mouthing through the cotton where he's already half hard. Before he can even think, a groan escapes him, and his hand goes to rest on the back of her head. But a second later, his mind catches up, and he pulls at her shoulder, takes her by the chin, raises her head so he can really look at her.

There's desire, sure, but like he knew he would, he sees something else, too, buried deep — hurt. Grief. And then there's the part where she's under the influence, of course. "Hey, hey. You've had a lot to drink. You okay?"

"One of the perks of being married, Kaidan," she explains matter-of-factly, "is that when your wife makes a drunken pass at you, you're allowed to take advantage." As she talks, she's holding his gaze, but her hands are busy, trying to get him naked.

"...are you sure?"

She rolls her eyes dramatically, but her smile is full of affection. "Always the boy scout. Just shut up and let me suck you."

Sudden heat flares in his belly and his breath catches. He slides his briefs all the way off, and kicks them away.

"Yes ma'am."


	2. Chapter 2

Shepard technically isn't Kaidan's superior officer anymore, but he can tell she still gets off just a little on seeing him follow her orders. She motions for him to move to the middle of the bed. When he does, she drapes herself over his thigh, elbow between his legs and resting her head on that hand, bringing her lips tantalizingly close to his cock. Her other hand strokes him slowly, deliberately, as she watches him. It's a struggle for him not to close his eyes or throw his head back, but he knows she likes to be seen, likes what it does to him when he sees her, so he resists.

She's so close to him, he can just barely feel her brushing his skin when she speaks. "You like the way this looks?"

"Mmm ... yeah." He can't really come up with an answer more coherent than that right now.

"Thought you might," she smirks. She reaches back for the bottle she's put down behind her. "Give me your hand."

Automatically, he reaches for her full lips. _Blowjob lips_ , she'd called them once, and he'd quickly come to agree. Those lips part, a hint of tongue peeking through them, as she takes his finger into her mouth and starts sucking it, devouring the chocolate sauce she's dripped there. A shiver goes through him — god, she's so good at this. He watches her tongue swirling around and is consumed with the need to grab her, push her down on his cock.

Her mischievous eyes are locked on him. She finally finishes with his finger, drawing it slowly out of her mouth with a smile. "Delicious," she murmurs. He slides it down her chin, between her breasts, leaving a wet trail behind.

Another smirk, and then she's on him, sloppy kisses covering his length before she starts sucking on the head of his cock. This time, he truly can't stop himself from closing his eyes and tipping his head back as her hot mouth touches him. He hisses out a breath and brings himself upright again when that wet warmth disappears for a moment, his fingers threading into her hair and watching intently as she drizzles the chocolate all over him.

He didn't think he could get any harder, but the dark trails over his skin, and the promise they imply, prove him wrong.

As soon as she's set the bottle aside, her tongue gets back to business, lapping at his thighs where a few stray drops have landed, then moving back to his tip and dragging slowly across it. Already, she's got a bit of chocolate on her face, and a little piece of him wants to pull her to him, kiss it away.

Maybe later.

Right now, he's too busy enjoying her ministrations to stop. He moans at the sight of his cock in her mouth, louder than he'd intended, but she smiles when she hears it. It seems to inspire her — she starts licking him in every way possible, now. The flat of her tongue pulls all the way from base to tip like he's an oversized lollipop. She uses the point of it to explore the soft skin connecting head to shaft. Warm wetness dips down, tickles him, teases him, wherever she wraps her lips around him.

He's writhing and groaning, thrusting involuntarily; every time he feels the sensation of her tongue on his cock, it twists him tighter, feeds the fire burning in his groin. She's moved to lick at his base now, her tongue drawing wide circles up the underside of his shaft, slowly moving higher, until she reaches the head again. He's expecting her to trace the same pattern back down, anticipating how it's going to feel, when his whole body seizes with pleasure instead.

It must be that she's more relaxed than usual after drinking so much, because she's taken his entire length into her mouth, something she isn't normally able to do. He can feel her tongue sliding along every last inch; his tip hits the back of her throat. Everything is so warm and slick, and _oh god_ — both of his hands tighten on the back of her head, holding her there, and he cries out. Her nose brushes through his curly hair and her hand, no longer gripping him, reaches down to stroke his balls. She moans around him, and it's all he can do not to drive his hips up to her mouth and come right then.

After a span of time during which he can't even remember his own name, she finally comes up for air. Grinning devilishly, she uses her hand to replace her lips around him. She sits back for a moment; she seems to be savoring the sight of what she's done to him.

"Jesus," he pants, "that feels so good." She rearranges herself so she is lying under his thigh instead of over it, spreading his legs wide.

"Just wait," she promises, again reaching for the chocolate. He gasps when he feels the cool liquid hitting his skin, coating his balls and dripping lower, all the way down to his — _oh_. He has to think up ten different ways to overclock his omni-tool just to stay under control when he realizes what she's doing.

She's done this before, but only once. When they were first coming together, exploring each other and what they liked. He's always wanted her to do it again, but never asked, didn't want to push. Now, she's doing it on her own, and he's barely able to breathe.

When her hand comes back up to grip him as her tongue slides over his balls, he groans loudly enough to make her chuckle. He grinds upwards, thrusting into her hand, as she pulls his skin into her mouth and sucks hard, lets it slide out between her teeth, getting a little rough. Just the way he likes it.

Her lips and tongue make quick work of the chocolate she's applied there, and she starts verging lower. He thinks he hears her mumble something and he can't quite catch it, but honestly, whatever she's saying, it's fine by him. Her head pops up, and he raises his own, slightly dazed. Belatedly, he notes that she's tugging at him, directing him to touch himself while she works. Once he catches on, he starts stroking in earnest, letting her watch him pleasure himself with a strong hand. Just the way _she_ likes it.

She hums, pleased, and gives his balls one more swift lick before dipping her head back down. The moment her tongue touches the tight ring of muscle, a jolt of electricity connects straight to his cock, and the fire in him explodes into a raging inferno. She keeps going, licking, probing slightly, and his hips rock in time with the movement of his hand, speeding up as she applies a little more pressure; he's so close now. A stream of groans and curses, interspersed with her name, issues forth from his lips until he comes with a final jerk and a shout, spilling over his belly. He relaxes, twitching with oversensitivity until she finally pulls back.

A soft kiss is dropped on his inner thigh, and then she's up and off to the bathroom. He lies back and stares up at the skylight, his mind blank and still hazy with lust. After a few minutes, she returns with a washcloth and cleans him up, then slides up next to him. There's a faint tang of mouthwash on his tongue after he kisses her, a hint of chocolate he caught from the corner of her mouth.

"Good?" Her voice is smug, and rightfully so.

"God," he breathes, "do you even have to ask? That was probably the best blowjob I've had in my life."

An arched eyebrow meets him when she props herself up to look at him. _"Probably?"_

"I don't know, I'd have to experience it a few more times before I could say for sure." She smacks him lightly on the arm, but snuggles back into his shoulder happily. He reaches down to stroke her hip, her lower body still clothed. "So, did you have anything else in mind?"

"Mmm hmm." She nods slowly, eyes closed, and her fingers trail lightly over his chest. "Rest."

He moves his hand to her shoulder and squeezes her tighter to him, a little disappointed, but he's certainly not going to try to push her into anything. He's about to relax into sleep when she continues.

"When you're recovered, I want the hardest fuck I've had in _my_ life."


	3. Chapter 3

If there's anything Kaidan loves in this world, it's Shepard. And of all the things he loves about Shepard, the way she tastes has to be near the top of the list. So when she surprises him by asking him to fuck her in that sly, honeyed voice, he quickly decides that the best way to get himself back into fighting shape is to put his tongue to good use. It's the least he can do after what she's just done for him.

She suggested a rest, but he's not having that. Why waste the time when he has so many other options that are more intriguing? He pushes her onto her back immediately, slides off the bed, and drags her to the side, her legs hanging down. Standing next to the bed now, he situates himself above her, leaning over. Looking her up and down, he marvels at how beautiful she is, how lucky he is; he marvels at the fact that this amazing creature has chosen him, married _him_ , given herself to him.

He runs both hands from her waist to her breasts, cupping them, running his thumbs over the lush fabric of her bra, one hand going higher to trace the graceful line of her jaw. Stretching up, he kisses her softly once, twice. She gives him a contented smile, which he returns — for a moment. Then the smile turns predatory, and he starts taking off her slacks. Black panties that match her bra peek out when he gets the button and zipper undone.

"Kaidan, what are you up to?" She sounds much too pleased for that question to be serious.

He pulls the dress pants off and discards them, as careless with them as she'd been earlier with the rest of the outfit. "You said something about dessert," he answers innocently. Pulling her hips forward to the edge of the bed, he kneels down, positions himself between her thighs, and presses his lips to the damp satin, just enough to tease her, eliciting a soft sigh.

Opening his mouth wider, he pulls his tongue over the black fabric briefly before replacing it with his hand. He rubs back and forth gently, enjoying the silky smoothness under his fingers, then suddenly grinds the heel of his hand into her just so. She squirms and moans quietly under his touch, and now it's his turn to smirk. Deft fingers hook under the panties and peel them off, his lips following them down her thighs.

Already he has her taste in his mouth, but he's planning on sampling a bit more of her before he's through. He kisses his way back up her body to start at the top — chocolate, of course; heavy sweetness engulfing his taste buds when he licks delicately at her lips and chin, catching some that she missed when she tried to clean up earlier. Dessert, indeed.

Nuzzling and kissing her neck, he finds the flavor of salty sweat from her earlier exertions. The contrast with the sweet chocolate is heavenly. It reminds him of what she just did to him, how she pleased him in the most private of places and made him come so hard. Although it's only been a couple of minutes, he feels the first traces of heat rushing back into his groin. She won't have to wait long to get what she asked for.

Her arms come up around him, but he's already on the move, heading lower, running his tongue in a slow circle around her bellybutton. Here, she tastes like clean skin and he can smell the floral soap she uses — lilac. The combination is like home to him. Her fingers comb through his hair lazily, and he wants to wrap his arms around her and stay just like this forever. Right now, though, he's a man on a mission, so he just places a kiss on her palm before he moves on.

Down, all the way down, until he's back where he started, kneeling before her as if in worship, reverent hands spreading her legs. He approaches slowly, trailing over her thigh, catching a little bit of that taste he can't begin to describe, a taste that is just uniquely her, a taste he could never get enough of.

The closer he gets, the more her essence takes over, and the temptation soon becomes overwhelming. He drops the pretense of a slow burn and drags his tongue all the way up her slit without warning.

Hanging onto the edge of the bed, she cries out, and lifts her hips to meet him. He takes the opportunity to slip one hand under her, pulling a leg over his shoulder, and positioning his other hand so that two of his fingers are just barely touching her entrance. The lightest pressure applied there, licking through her folds at the same time, and a desperate tone creeps into her voice.

She always has loved the tease.

So — a little bit more pressure, then; a kiss and swipe of tongue over her clit. They're answered with a ragged moan and a forceful grind of hips. He moves along with her and keeps working with his lips and tongue; keeps up the pressure of his fingers, but they never quite slip inside her. She's clearly enjoying the ride, the tension in her body gradually building the longer he goes on. Eventually, she starts to whimper and grab at his shoulders, his hair.

"Oh _fuck_ , Kaidan," she begs. "Please, just— ohh— god, just fuck me."

He's been hard for a while now, so he's more than happy to do so. Backing away, he jerks her up off the bed, turns her around, then bends her over it. He takes a moment to admire how she looks, sprawled across the bed, still panting and gasping. A fan of rich chestnut brown hair spreads out behind her, and he grabs a fistful and pulls as he plunges into her.

Even though it still hasn't been that long since his last orgasm, he stays still for a few seconds once he's inside her. Her tight walls, her incredible heat, just _her_ , it's all too much, and he doesn't want to come again before he can give her what she asked for. This time he starts running through old decryption algorithms he used back in the days of the first Normandy to distract himself.

Of course, she's not making it any easier for him. She's bracing her knees against the bed, pushing back, getting him deeper inside. The hand that isn't pulling her hair clutches her hip, nails leaving half-moon indentations in her skin. He just needs to close his eyes for a moment and hang on, in an attempt to muster up the strength not to move for just another—

Jesus, what man in the galaxy could resist this? His free hand moves to her shoulder, and he pulls out and slams back into her once. It takes his breath away, and snaps the gossamer thread of willpower he had left. A low growl rumbles out of his throat and he gives in completely, pounding into her over and over. His hand in her hair relaxes and flattens out on the bed next to her.

"Don't stop," she gasps out, and she's scrabbling at his wrist, bringing his hand back. It isn't something he'd normally do so easily, but she's got him in such a state that something primal in him roars to life. He yanks viciously and her throat is fully exposed. Each time he shoves his cock into her, fills her, her moans sound hoarse and strained, and at the same time even more ecstatic.

That sound, the delightful sound of what he's doing to her, spurs him on further. Clawed fingers rake from her shoulders to her ass and back, leaving bright red trails behind. The moaning which had been constant is interrupted by a hiss of pain. The thought registers that now he's taken things too far — he needs to slow down, stop, lean over and kiss away the hurt, apologize for being too rough.

"Harder," comes her desperate cry. He tries to throw more of his weight into his thrusts, although honestly, he's not sure if it's possible given how he's been slamming into her—

_"Scratch harder."_

That primal beast she's awakened acts on its own. Digging in just enough to hold on while he hilts himself inside her and stops moving, all ten fingers rest for a moment, positioned at the tops of her shoulders. Then he drags them down over her soft skin, nails biting into the fragile flesh. The red trails appear again, and longer-lasting marks, too — one of his scratches draws blood.

She asks for more and he complies, scratching again and again until there's nothing left of her back but glowing red skin, long raised welts and a few deeper wounds. When he sees the damage he's wrought, he questions her, checking that she's still okay. Her brow is furrowed with the pain but her lips are set in a smile. She nods faintly and answers him with a wiggle of her hips, pressing her thighs to his.

He clamps his hands down on her wrists and brings them backward. Her arms are extended straight out behind her, and pulls on them, hard, as he fucks her. Using the leverage to force himself ever deeper is good, but suddenly he's thought of something even better. He releases one of her hands and guides it between her legs.

"Touch yourself."

Apparently, she doesn't mind taking orders, either — she quickly gets to work, rubbing greedily at her clit. She was already close before this, and from the pitch of her voice and the way her walls start tightening around him, she's right on the brink. She only lasts a few more thrusts before she comes, fingers grinding against her clit, an ear-splitting cry piercing through him.

The sight of her splayed on the bed, driven to a frenzy and trembling with pleasure at his hand, is the hottest thing he's ever seen. That delicious heat has clamped down on him and he savors the feeling of her body engulfing him as he moves within her. In moments, he's over the edge too, erupting inside her with a heavy grunt.

Dropping his hands to the bed and leaning over, breathless, he rests for a moment before slipping out of her and finally administering soothing kisses to her back. Exhaustion is starting to take over, and he climbs back into bed. For her part, she lays there in a daze; all that moves are her hands, still flexing and twisting in the sheets. She finally stirs to join him when he's lying there waiting, holding an arm out, offering her a place to snuggle into.

After years of moments just like this, her body fits perfectly against his. "Thank you for that," she whispers. "I love you."

Burying his face in her hair, he briefly pulls his arms tighter around her. "I love you. And believe me," he chuckles, "it was my pleasure. Maybe we should get you drinks more often."

She's quiet for a while, then, but still awake — her thumb strokes his waist and eyelashes brush over his skin, light as butterfly wings, when she blinks. Still radiating contentment, but something else has slipped in, too.

"...you know you did everything you could, right?" It's something he's said so many times trying to comfort her.

"Yeah," she replies flatly. He always says it, but it rarely works.

"It wasn't your fault."

"I know."

Sighing, he rolls towards her, his free hand coming up to press her to him as he kisses her forehead. The space under his chin is exactly the perfect shape for her head, and he tucks her in. Her face is nestled against his chest; she plants a tiny kiss there.

"Try to sleep?" he offers. He's given her everything she asked for tonight, but when it comes down to it, all he can really do that might help is this. Giving her shelter while she tries to find some peace. "If you need me, I'll be right here."


End file.
